


A Question of Seduction

by lizcommotion



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Bisexuality, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Femslash, Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, Past Rape/Non-con, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Racebending, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8645470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizcommotion/pseuds/lizcommotion
Summary: Mrs. Collins is surprised to find that Lady Anne de Bourgh is a much different person after she inherits her mother's estate of Rosings Park. Even more surprising, Lady Anne wants Charlotte to teach her how to dance. Their time together leaves Charlotte confused, and remembering a past heartbreak with her friend Lizzie. A slow burn romance that becomes NSFW in Chapter 2. Despite the obstacles in their path, our heroines eventually find a happy ending.





	1. On Death and Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Collins is surprised to find that Lady Anne de Bourgh is a much different person after she inherits her mother's estate of Rosings Park. Even more surprising, Lady Anne wants Charlotte to teach her how to dance. Why is it so hard for Charlotte to think of anything else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In trying to write historical femslash that also involves some racebending, there is a delicate line between "rose colored glasses" and "so much historical accuracy it's painful because really you're probably just here for the femslash." I've tried to navigate that line the best that I know how.
> 
> [spoilers, further explanation of tw for those who need it]  
> The prior rape mentioned in the tags involves enslaved persons on the de Bourgh estates in the West Indies (i.e. the Caribbean). It is brought up to explain Anne's upbringing/backstory. (Most) other characters in this fic probably react a lot better to the news than Regency characters would.

Mrs. Collins folded the letter with deliberate slowness. Its contents were a matter of some delicacy, as they involved her husband's patroness. Though she had grown weary of the name 'de Bourgh' even before she wed, her equanimity in such situations resulted in a degree of marital harmony. 

Their modest income dependended on the great Lady Catherine's generosity, such as it was. Though if her dear friend Lizzie's father should happen to die -- not that her husband wished it, he rushed to assure her -- then they would come into the entail for the estate near Mrs. Collins' family. What more could she possibly wish for?

Charlotte sighed, fingering the letter. As much as the woman irked her, Lady Catherine's death complicated things.

She delayed as long as she could, but Charlotte knew she must call her husband in from the garden with the news. It would be all he would speak of for days. 

She savored the quiet for a few moments more.

***

'My dear, why did you not tell me at once?'

'You looked so happy in the garden. I wanted you to have a few more moments of peace.'

'Peace? Lady Catherine has departed this world.' Mr. Collins fidgetted with his sleeves. 'We must call on the family, of course. Lady Anne will be devastated. I have a few remarks that might be suitable for her funeral, but I must consult with her family at once.'

Charlotte had long since learned not to question her husband's resolve regarding the de Bourgh's. Before she had called him from the garden, she had already assembled suitable mourning clothes.

"Yes, my love."

"You will accompany me, of course. I am sure that Lady Anne does not begrudge you the connections to those whose infamous affairs destroyed her engagement and the dearest wish of her mother."

Charlotte allowed her husband's words to buzz about her like so many bees, loud but ultimately content to keep about their own business. The walk to Rosings Park was lovely this time of year, and she rarely had time to enjoy her own garden.

"Pardon?" Charlotte asked.

"I was simply wondering what would be done about dear Lady Anne's prospects. Of course you were quite right not to respond, as this is hardly the time to be considering matrimony."

Charlotte nodded quietly, glad that her husband found explanations for her silences so easily.

"Of course she will be well looked after. There will be someone in the family who will assist. Someone proper."

Mr. Collins grew silent as they entered the boxwood drive, failing to enumerate the chimneys, stairwells, or windows of the estate.

"What shall I say to her? I do not know her like I knew her mother."

"Lady Anne has no reason to be dissatisfied with your service," Charlotte assured her husband.

For once, Mr. Collins was silent.

***

The house was not draped in black, nor was it filled with the somber silence of grief. Instead, it was in an uproar.

"Your Ladyship, you cannot fire your companion! You are ill!"

Lady Anne looked as fit as Charlotte had ever seen her. Her cheeks, usually a sickly yellowish color, had developed a healthier hue. Lady Anne's hair was uncovered, and had come loose from the usual strict bun she wore. The dark curls cascaded loosely down her back. As Charlotte considered Lady Anne, she realized with a gasp that the other woman was a beauty. She had always been described as plain, but Charlotte was intimately familiar with plain.

If anything, Lady Anne looked as beautiful than Lizzie after a long walk. Her looks were as striking, as unique as the Caribbean heiresses Charlotte had seen during their brief forays into London in the barouche box. It was a wonder she had not married.

"I am _not_ ill." Lady Anne said, looking as regal and fierce as Boudiccea. 'I believe that my dear departed mother was taken in by charlatans, who misled her about my health. As such, I no longer require your services. I will see that you receive a reference.'

Charlotte privately doubted Lady Catherine had ever been taken in. Still, Lady Catherine had always worried about her daughter's marriage prospects. The headstrong beauty before her would have no trouble finding a husband, particularly given her substantial inheritance. It was a curious affair, but truly none of Charlotte's business.

"We wished to offer our condolences on the loss of your mother, my dear Lady Anne," Mr. Collins began. "The neighborhood, indeed, the Empire, has lost a gem. I would hesitate to say a diamond, for it seems perhaps overdone or rehearsed, but I do believe your mother was a diamond of the country. If she had fought Napoleon, I often told her, he would never have come back from Elba."

Charlotte wished she was closer to her husband so she could step on his foot. He failed to notice her most egregiously obvious eye movements that indicated he should stop talking.

Lady Anne caught her eye, and Charlotte realized with shock that their new patroness had seen her raising her eyebrow and glaring at her husband. She felt that she might die of shame, except that Lady Anne winked at her most distinctly.

"Mr. Collins, if I may interrupt," Lady Anne said. "I have need of female companionship in these difficult times. The right kind of female companionship, if you catch my meaning."

"Of course, Lady Anne. You must have someone who is appropriate to your station but will not betray the confidences of the great de Bourgh family or the Rosings estate."

"Indeed," Lady Anne interrupted. Charlotte was impressed with how adeptly she turned the conversation. Lady Anne had always seemed so reserved.

"Mrs. Collins, would it trouble you greatly to assist me during this difficult time?" Lady Anne's eyes twinkled as she asked her. "I do need someone who will not betray my confidences."

Charlotte agreed with alacrity, and not an inconsiderable amount of curiosity. She even managed to endure the rapturous exclamations of her husband on the carriage ride back. 

***

Charlotte had the maid redo her hair three times before she departed for Rosings. In truth, she could not stop thinking of the way the sunlight shone off Lady Anne's raven hair. At last she sent the maid away and put her hair in a simple bun. She was plain Mrs. Collins, wife, and there was nothing she could do to change that fact. It was no use pretending otherwise.

The footman showed her to a large ballroom which she had never seen before. There was a large pianoforte in the corner, and for a moment Charlotte wondered how many there could be in Rosings before she realized it had been moved there especially.

"Thank you for coming."

Charlotte turned, smoothing down her skirts awkwardly as she did so.

"Of course, Your Ladyship."

"If this is going to work, we must dispense with such formality. Would you consider calling me Anne?"

Charlotte began to curtsy, then blushed as Anne caught her by the arm and stopped her.

"Only if you will call me Charlotte."

Anne's hand lingered for a moment before releasing her, and Charlotte's arm tingled even after they were no longer touching.

"Very well, Charlotte."

"What is it you want me to assist you with?"

"My education was somewhat lacking for a woman of my standing," Anne explained. "My mother did not feel that I was strong enough for certain subjects. If I wish to move in society as my station says I must, then I need to catch up."

"Surely you could hire a private tutor."

"Do you not want to help?" For the first time since her mother's death, Lady Anne looked vulnerable.

"No, not at all! I'm delighted to come. I simply meant that I may not be accomplished enough to assist you."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"Very well. Where would you like to begin?"

"Dancing first, I think. Then perhaps some music. I also heard from my mother that you were accomplished in mathematics and Latin?"

Charlotte blushed. "She did not think they were very fitting subjects for a lady."

"No."

Their eyes met, and Charlotte saw the same burning determination in Anne's eyes that she had once seen in Lizzie's. Sometimes, Charlotte still dreamed of Lizzie's eyes, particularly the Christmas they had discovered each other's kisses under the mistletoe.

"I apologize, I seem to have quite lost my wits. What did you say?"

"I was just wondering if you could teach dancing without music," Anne said. "If you will forgive me, I am much more interested in what you were thinking of. I do not have much experience outside Rosings, you see. If I am to move in society, I need someone to teach me."

Charlotte scheduled another visit with Lady Anne, then hurried home on the pretense of preparing for their lessons. She would not mention dancing to Mr. Collins; he would worry that it was impolitic while Lady Anne was still in mourning.

She spent the walk and much of her preparations struggling to remind herself that proper married women should not think about what it would be like to kiss Lady Anne de Bourgh.

***

"You have had no formal instruction in dancing?" Charlotte asked. "Are you sure?"

The two moved effortlessly about the empty ballroom. It was so quiet Charlotte was sure Anne would hear the thudding of her heartbeat.

Charlotte had to remind herself that she was here as a teacher, nothing more. Though she was unused to leading, it was easy with Anne's ungloved fingers aligned carefully against hers. Charlotte could almost forget she had ever been a wallflower.

"My mother felt that I was too ill to participate for myself, but I did make careful observations when others danced," Anne said. "I may have practiced in my room, but I had no partner."

Anne glanced at Charlotte as their hands drew together again, and her eyes glowed with warmth and a hint of mischief.

"You make an excellent partner," Anne said.

Charlotte felt that she was falling into Anne's eyes, into the comfortable feel of her hand on Anne's waist. She forgot the rhythm of the dance, forgot almost to breathe. Anne smiled at her, their faces close. She could lose herself in this moment

It is perhaps best not to get lost in a beautiful woman's eyes when dancing. Charlotte stumbled, reminding her of every dance where Lizzie had graced the floor while she merely waited.

Anne caught her before she could fall, and was all concern for Charlotte. 

"I am sorry, I have overtired you with my enthusiasm."

"No, it is my fault," Charlotte murmured. She struggled to calm her breathing. "I am out of practice with dancing. Mr. Collins has grown to believe that it is better for a married clergyman to observe rather than dance."

"Has he now?" Anne's mouth quirked at the corner, and her chuckle was low and slow and most unladylike. "I wonder who could have led him to believe such things."

Charlotte blushed, the rush of heat spreading across her neck and face. It conquering the controlled porcelain in which she schooled her features, and she could not help but smile.

"I could not say."

Anne's hand lingered on her arm, steadying her. There were so many things Charlotte could not say. Yet before she could stop herself, tell herself it was a foolish notion, she gently rested her hand atop Anne's. Their touch was barely more than a butterfly's heartbeat before she moved her hand away.

The heat of the moment lingered long into the evening. Charlotte almost felt as though an invisible cord tethered her to Anne, tugging her thoughts back to the beguiling woman whenever she attempted her usual tasks.

In the end, only one thing could distract her. 

***

"It is a most commendable gift, my dear. Why, though I flatter myself, I daresay that I may have drawn something similar, if I had the talent. For what better subject for any artist than our esteemed Lady Anne? Except perhaps her late mother."

Charlotte nodded thanks at her husband's compliments, though her mind was elsewhere.

Lady Anne had emerged from full mourning scandalously early as far as Mr. Collins was concerned, though he would never voice such thoughts to his patroness. Charlotte bore the brunt of them. Despite the onslaught, she spent less time than usual delicately steering her husband towards topics such as his garden or his latest sermon.

Her thoughts insisted on drifting to the feel of her hand on the small of Anne's back during their dancing lessons, and the way Anne's hair came loose and drifted onto her perfectly smooth neck. Her skin glowed a delicate bronze in the sunlight, and Charlotte found she could never capture Anne's full beauty in her drawings.

It was not for lack of trying. Drawing Anne was the only way Charlotte could stay composed when she was away from Rosings. In her picture, Anne's head was thrown back as she laughed.

Anne had never laughed thus when her mother was alive. Charlotte occasionally wondered if perhaps Anne laughed more often during their visits, but told herself it was merely Anne's joy at coming into her inheritance and independence.

"I wonder if it is completely appropriate, my dear."

"What?" Charlotte started out of her daydreams as Mr. Collins' monologue broke through.

"The artwork is commendable, which is of course what I would expect of my wife. Would it not have been more proper, indeed more respectful, to draw her in a more formal setting? She is a de Bourgh after all."

"You may be right, my dear. Though I thought the drawing could hang perhaps in Lady Anne's personal salon, rather than the main hall. She may wish to schedule a portrait artist for something formal, but certainly they would not know her as I would."

"Her personal salon." Mr. Collins was aflutter. "Yes, my dear, as you are such good friends with her. Oh yes, this is indeed to our benefit."

"What else could I possibly be thinking of?" Charlotte murmured, though her husband was too busy praising her connections that he did not hear her.

She was greatly relieved, in this case more than usual, that Mr. Collins did not know what she was thinking.

***

"You draw me as though I were a great beauty," Anne murmured. Her finertips rested lightly on the edge of the drawing, holding it in place on the library's broad desk. 

It was a striking contrast, Charlotte thought. Anne looked every ounce the country ruler, and with her slender frame and determined stance she looked almost as formidable as Darcy. Yet when Charlotte presented her with the drawing, her body softened ever so slightly.

"I simply draw what I see." 

Charlotte forced her eyes away from the small curve of Anne's bodice. Yet she found meeting Anne's eyes just as dangerous. Today there were adorable crinkles in the corners that she had not seen before, and Charlotte wondered what new surprises this woman could hold.

"I hope that someday I may have the skill to draw your beauty," Anne murmured.

"You jest at my expense." Charlotte had not expected her to be cruel.

"Never."

"Everyone knows I am no beauty. Why, I was almost an old maid. If Lizzie had not turned down Mr. Collins, I would be raising my brother's children."

"I meant no offense." Anne spoke gently, turning Charlotte's chin to look at her. "Truly. I have always admired you."

"Oh."

Charlotte did not know how to respond. Her heart fluttered in her throat near where Anne touched her. 

Anne spoke so tenderly. It was beyond the bounds of propriety, surely. Yet Charlotte believed she was genuine even though her words went against everything Charlotte had been taught about herself.

"My father was pleased to be rid of me, I think." Charlotte did not know why she spoke thus. She had never spoken so freely, not even with Lizzie.

"My mother was never pleased with me, but she would never release her hold on me." Anne's countenance was calm, but her voice trembled. "Even if I had married her precious Darcy."

"I am sorry my friend caused you pain."

"What, you mean Mrs. Darcy?" Anne laughed, but there was no joy in it. "She did me a great favor. She saved me."

"Saved you? From what?"

"My mother's expectations, I suppose. Her plans for my life never went as she planned." Anne smiled sadly.

"My father wanted a son," Charlotte said. "I suppose everyone does."

"Do you? Now that you are married?"

It would have been an impudent question from anyone else, something for them to gossip about later. Once, Charlotte could have spoken about such matters with Lizzie. That was before she broke what was between them, whatever it had been. They were still friends, but she had no one with whom she could confide such intimate matters.

"I am rather afraid of children of my own," Charlotte confessed. "I worry about childbirth, of course. We have not had much success, and Mr. Collins has decided that it is God's punishment for the entail."

"I am sorry, I did not mean to cause you such distress."

Charlotte had not even realized she was near tears. It was her blushing that betrayed her, the emotions turning her face as red as an officer's coat. 

"It is no matter," Charlotte said, struggling to regain composure.

Anne turned away from her, staring out the window in silence. Charlotte was sure that her outburst would change her friend's opinion of her. She did not know if she could force herself back into the small world of the parsonage again.

"I am going to share a confidence with you that no living person in England knows," Anne said slowly. "I have no one else to consult about my feelings on the matter, and I find myself rather conflicted."

It was not what Charlotte expected. At a loss for words, she moved closer to her friend and rubbed the small of her back. Anne sighed, and her delicate shoulders relaxed.

"Please do not judge me to harshly when you hear what I have to say," she said.

"Come sit with me and tell me what ails you," Charlotte murmured. "It cannot be so very bad a secret. You are too good."

"I wish my mother had thought so. I suppose I should begin at the beginning, which has to do with the circumstances of my birth. I am sure the gossips in the neighborhood told you my mother lost several children before me."

"I try not to put much stock in gossip."

"She was desperate to have a living child, to provide an heir to the great de Bourgh estate. She consulted the best physicians in London, and one suggested that perhaps the problem was with my father. My mother must have believed the doctor, for she devised a plan."

Charlotte continued rubbing her friend's back as she revised her opinions of Lady Catherine. To lose so many children must be devastating. What Faustian bargain had Lady Catherine made to obtain a child?

Anne must have sensed some of her thoughts. "Her methods were shameful. I am shameful."

Charlotte gently took Anne's hand in hers. "You are not responsible for the sins of your father."

"I am not so sure," Anne said. "Please, let me finish. I do not know if I can continue in the face of your kindness.

"My family has a large sugar plantation in the West Indies. My esteemed parents took a journey to tour the plantation, something about inspecting how it was being run. It is the basis of our fortune, so my mother insisted on accompanying my father. Apparently there were several slaves who look very similar to my father. I believe they may have been brothers, though of course no one speaks of such things. My mother wanted to be sure the inheritance could not be questioned, you see. That I would resemble the de Bourghs.

"I was supposed to be a man. I was supposed to be more pale, my hair less wild. I was born shortly before my...before the man I thought was my father died. My mother ensured an engagement to Darcy, so that if my lineage was suspect I would have only the best connections.

"She said she would breed the savage out of me if it killed her. She told me once, when I disobeyed my nurse and ran outside to play.

"Now I have told you, and I feel that you must hate me."

Charlotte did not know what to say, but she knew she must say something. She knew that some women were unfaithful and passed the children off as legitimate. What shocked her was that Lady Catherine would ever bed someone who was not a gentleman. 

Charlotte shook herself. That man was Anne's father, and he had died without knowing either his child or freedom.

"What must you think of me, that I would hate you for such a story?" Charlotte cried. "If anyone, I judge your mother for her actions."

"Now she is gone, I don't know what to do," Anne said. 

"What of your family?"

"My mother sold the plantation. She said it was because the abolitionists were hurting the sugar trade, but I learned long ago not to trust her on such matters."

"What if you went to the West Indies yourself?"

"If I should be discovered, what then?" Anne grimaced. "I could lose everything. If my father was a slave, then by law I would be as well. What good would I be then?

"I've never even met anyone like me."

Charlotte did not know what to say. Anne was still waiting for a response. Charlotte could only think of one thing to do. Though it was entirely inappropriate given the difference in their station, Charlotte pulled Anne close. The two women held each other until Anne pulled away.

"I do not know how to grieve, for any of them. I do not know what to do with myself, with my life.

"I never really believed I would inherit the estate, not before she had married me off to someone of a suitable bloodline."

"I do not know that Darcy would have been so terrible," Charlotte said. "Not from what Lizzie has said."

"My dear Charlotte, I believe you are in ernest. Yet Darcy initially rejected your friend because of her relations. An uncle in trade is nothing compared to my patronage."

"Surely for someone of your station, this should not be a barrier to matrimony. I am sure there are plenty of suitors who would vie for your hand."

"Not the one I want," Anne said softly.

"Who is it?"

"Someone married," Anne sighed.

"Perhaps if you went to London, you might meet someone." Charlotte schooled her expression to fight the blush of emotion that rushed to her cheeks. She had no right to Anne's affections, particularly when matrimoney would help secure her from further scrutiny.

"Perhaps." Anne sighed, and rang for tea.

***

Anne was reserved the next time they met, and the time after that. Charlotte was not sure if she had offended, and did not know how to ask. Yet she longed for the cozy intimacy they had shared. Anne had stopped laughing so freely, and Charlotte worried for her friend.

At last she could bear it no longer. They had reverted to embroidery, rather than exploring new pursuits. Anne jabbed at the linen as though it were her mortal enemy.

"Please tell me what I have done to upset you," Charlotte said. "I cannot bear this estrangement much longer, not when you are so unhappy."

"You are not disappointed in me?" Anne asked, lowering her embroidery.

"How could I be?"

"After what I told you? I did not know what to think. Perhaps you think I am a savage. There are some who would think so."

"I only wish I could help somehow, but I do not know how." Charlotte said. "It pains me to see you in such a state. Your eyes are missing their sparkle."

"Do you pay such a great deal of notice to my eyes?"

"I simply meant that some people say they are the window to the soul. Your soul seems troubled. That is all." Charlotte found she suddenly sounded as flustered and verbose as Mr. Collins. Her face grew heated, and she was sure it had betrayed her feelings with its scarlet hue. She fumbled for her embroidery again to avoid Anne's gaze.

Anne chuckled, and it was the first true laugh Charlotte had heard since their conversation.

"Oh my dear Charlotte, what would I do without you to cheer me?"

Charlotte's embroidery thread tangled, and she spent several moments teasing the twists from the thread.

"It seems I am free from my mother, but I am still caught in her web here at Rosings."

It was a true friend who would change the subject in the face of her obvious discomposure, rather than pressing the issue.

"Whatever do you mean?" Charlotte asked, relieved that they were no longer discussing Anne's eyes or indeed any of her features.

"I think perhaps you are right about going to London," Anne said. 

"Quite." It was the most Charlotte could say under the circumstances. Of course Anne would want to have a coming-out. Of course she would want a husband and children of her own.

"However, I could not possibly go without a suitable companion. Would you accompany me?"

"Of course. You needn't fend for yourself."

Mr. Collins was more than delighted for his wife to accompany Lady Anne de Bourgh to her coming out in London, thus further cementing their connection in the eyes of the Ton. With a great deal of muslin and a ride in the famed barouche box, Charlotte found herself swept up in the process of helping her dear friend find a husband of her own.

***

Lady Anne de Bourgh was the talk of the season. In hushed whispers, the Ton spoke of her miraculous recovery from her mysterious illness, and Darcy's ill treatment of her as regards their engagement from birth. Most of all, they spoke of the prospects of every man in want of a wife of good fortune at obtaining an introduction. As her chaperone, Charlotte was quite busy keeping the Wickhams of the world away from her friend.

A few young ladies found themselves wanting for dance partners after Lady Anne's arrival on the London scene. There were hushed whispers that her birth was not entirely respectable. Yet her title and considerable fortune lured many a young man to ask for a dance, and several young men seemed intent on courting her.

"I am sick of dancing," Anne said as they arrived home one evening.

"Do not let the other young ladies hear you say it," Charlotte advised. "They are already quite sick with jealousy."

"The other young ladies are welcome to every man I have danced with."

"You judge people too quickly."

"They all say the same things. How marvelous it is that I recovered, how well I look. May they dance with me and mangle my poor feet."

"The Earl you danced with today seemed quite light on his feet."

"You are a much better dance partner than he will ever be."

Charlotte rose to leave. She knew Anne did not mean to hurt her by saying such things, but she could not let her heart hope for things which could never be. The proposal would start pouring in soon, and eventually Anne would agree. 

"Charlotte? Please stay."

"I'm sorry. I must be up early tomorrow."

"I miss how things used to be between us."

"Nothing has changed." Charlotte tried to keep her voice light. She told herself she should leave, but her body refused to move.

"You know that's not true."

"I can't think what you mean," Charlotte said.

"Ever since I told you about my mother, you've been distant. For awhile I thought...but it doesn't matter now."

"Is that what you think? That I have been distant because of your mother, your parentage?"

"Why else?"

"Because I'm falling in love with you," Charlotte said, before she could stop herself. "And I'm going to lose you."

She glanced up hesitantly, and saw the shocked expression on Anne's face. Her friend would never forgive such an indecent sentiment. Charlotte bolted for her bedroom. She would leave the next morning, as it was clear her company was no longer wanted.

*Why am I such a fool? It is Lizzie all over again.*


	2. Castle, Cottage, Villa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte and Anne have much needed conversations, reminisce on past heartbreak, and engage in a slow seduction all the way to the Italian countryside.
> 
> (NSFW)

_"Lizzie, I was considering our prospects. Particularly how you've always said you wanted to marry for love."_

_"What prospects? Clearly I am going to be raising Jane's children unless someone rich and foolish lets Netherfield Hall."_

_"What if there was another way?"_

_"I will not marry some pompous fool just for money or security, Charlotte. You know that."_

_"Lizzie! Will you please listen. What I propose is somewhat out of the ordinary, but certainly not enough to cause a scandal. I think, perhaps, that we could even find happiness."_

_"How?"_

_"We could live together. Perhaps a small cottage, somewhere remote. We wouldn't need a big house full of servants. Lizzie, I could be happy if I were by your side."_

_"Charlotte, what are you saying?"_

_"I love you, Lizzie. I think perhaps I've always loved you."_

_"No. I'm sorry, Charlotte, but what you propose is impossible."_

_"Is it?"_

_"I promised Jane I would raise her children if I didn't marry. What would I tell her? What if someone found out?"_

_"No one need know."_

_"My father already knows, Charlotte!"_

_"Surely your father would not betray you? You're his favorite."_

_"I am sorry to have misled you, Charlotte. I don't know what came over me. I assure you, it won't happen again."_

_"Lizzie, please! You kissed me, for Heaven's sake. Did it mean nothing?"_

_"As I said, such conduct will never happen again."_

***

It was the old nightmare. Her fight with Lizzie had haunted her for months. To be living it again, now, was almost beyond what she could bear. Yet it was her own fault for allowing her feelings for Anne to continue so.

Charlotte pulled gowns from her wardrobe and tossed them haphazardly on the bed. She did not call a servant to help her pack; she was too distraught. How would she explain her sudden absence? Someone would guess, and the shame of it would be almost worse than the scandal.

The shame already seared her like hot iron. Anne had relied on her to guide her in selecting a reliable husband. Charlotte could never hope to be anything of the sort. Even if she were a man, and unattached -- how she wished she could court Anne openly -- they were an entirely unsuitable match.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted her wallow in self-loathing, and Charlotte struggled to control the quaver in her voice.

"Who is it?"

She knew it would be Anne even before she heard her reply. "Charlotte, please let me speak with you. It is of the utmost importance."

It was best to get their ugly parting out of the way. "You may enter, Lady Anne."

"Really, Charlotte, you needn't be so formal." Anne froze as she saw the gowns and half filled valise. "You're leaving?"

"It is entirely inappropriate for me to be here, especially as your chaperone. I will write a letter to Lady M-- asking her to assist you, citing urgent family business. She will help you find a suitable husband."

"Charlotte, when will you realize I have never wanted a husband?"

"I don't understand."

Anne pulled a gown from Charlotte's unresisting fingers and tossed it aside. She still caught Charlotte's hands, tracing the outline of a heart with her delicate bronze fingers. Charlotte's heart caught in her throat.

"Please, do not make a jest of this."

"I only came to London so I could be alone with you, and away from Rosings," Anne said.

"What are you saying?"

"Charlotte, I am saying that I love you, too."

At that, Anne tilted Charlotte's chin up to hers and kissed her once, very delicately. Her lips were soft and gone all too soon.

"Please think on what I have said. I dearly wish that you would stay in London, but it is your choice."

She left Charlotte standing in a field of muslin and lace, at loss for words. 

***

The next morning, Anne instructed the maid to tell all visitors they were not at home. She rang for tea and the delicate sponge cake Charlotte adored so. Charlotte fidgetted as Anne sent the servants away, and poured Charlotte a cup of tea.

"Now that you have fortification and time to sleep on the matter, what do you think?"

"You certainly do not mince words."

"My dear Charlotte, I have been dancing around these feelings for years. It is time we spoke plainly."

Charlotte choked on her tea in a most unladylike manner. "Years?"

"I did say I had long admired you," Anne stammered. "I could not tell you when you first came to Rosings, not when my mother was alive or before I knew how you felt. How you might feel, that is."

Charlotte could only stare at her beloved friend in astonishment. "Is that why you asked for dancing lessons? To -- to seduce me?"

"I wanted to get to know you better, without the cloud of my mother or anyone else," Anne said. "I wanted to see if you would consent to be seduced."

Her teacup began to rattle most alarmingly, so Charlotte set it on a nearby table.

"Whatever my feelings, I do not know how could this possibly end well. Is it not better to simply be content with the blessings that we have?"

"I cannot decide for you, Charlotte, as much as I would wish to. Though I do believe that no one would question it if we were to take an extensive tour of the Continent now that it is safe from Napoleon. Perhaps you would consent to be my travelling companion on any number of trips."

"France?" Charlotte had not considered that Anne's wealth and status might shield them so.

"If you do not want to go to France, just tell me where you wish to travel. Perhaps I will buy a castle for us in the Scottish countryside. Only stay with me, Charlotte. Please."

"Please let me think on it," Charlotte said. "I had not thought...that is, it is much to take in."

"Of course."

Charlotte leaned towards Anne as she left, half-hoping she would kiss her again to prove her point. The woman was obstinately respectful of Charlotte's wishes.

"Only tell me that you want me," Anne said. "But not until you are sure. I do not think I can bear parting with you otherwise."

***

Lady Anne de Bourgh was in high demand in London society, with invitations arriving daily. Tonight's ball was one they could not readily snub without causing a great deal of gossip, something Charlotte hoped to avoid.

"My dearest Charlotte, how good of you to come." Lizzie stood at the door of the Darcy's London townhouse, looking the very picture of radiance. 

"Miss de Bourgh. Mrs. Collins." Darcy stood by her side, and Charlotte forced herself to smile. 

"It was entirely unnecessary to host a coming out ball in my honor, cousin," Anne said.

"I owed a debt to you and your mother."

Darcy bowed once, and left them standing with his wife.

"You have not improved his manners much, Lizzie."

"Do not judge him to harshly, Charlotte. He is apprehensive about becoming a father, and it comes out in strange ways."

Lizzie rested a hand on her slender belly and raised an eyebrow at Charlotte in that infuriating way of hers. "He thinks I should be resting or in confinement or some such, but I told him I could not miss seeing you."

"You should not have risked your health on my account."

"Charlotte, it is the very least I could do under the circumstances. Besides, I wanted to see you. We have not spoken in so long."

"Oh but I am neglecting poor Lady Anne!" Charlotte said. There was nothing Lizzie could say that would salvage what they had. Nothing could have enticed her to come except for Anne's welfare.

"Do not sacrifice your time together on my account. I am sure my dance card will fill up with very little effort."

"That is just the thing," Charlotte said, clasping Anne's arm to draw her away. "As your chaperone, I must ensure that you do not become acquainted with anyone untoward."

Lizzie spoke before they could leave.

"I am sorry for what happened between us, but I hope we can still be friends."

"Please, do not speak to me so. Not when he is here." Charlotte searched for an exit.

"Charlotte, he is my husband and I am having his child. He is a part of my life now."

Anne glanced back and forth between the two women. Charlotte blushed furiously, the crimson waves of shame betraying her yet again. Lizzie looked at everything but Charlotte's eyes.

"I must apologize, but I seem to have taken a turn," Anne said. "After so long at Rosings, I am not used to so many late evenings or such fine food. Would it trouble you too much to accompany me home, Mrs. Collins?"

Anne was already ushering Charlotte to the door, leaving a trail of disappointed mothers in their wake. Charlotte did not turn to look at Mrs. Darcy.

***

In the carriage, Charlotte rested her cheek against the cool of the glass and tried to erase Miss Elizabeth Bennett from her memory. There was only Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy now, and she could never be hers.

"You loved her."

At Anne's words, Charlotte became undone completely. Anne quietly moved to the carriage seat next to her and offered her a handkerchief.

"Yes."

"She hurt you."

"Yes."

"When she married Darcy?"

"When she would not run off to live in a cottage with me. We could not quite afford a castle."

"I see."

"She said it was impractical, that we would be found out. But I do not know why she would say such things when she...she kissed me first."

"It is no wonder you thought I jested with you. I would never cause you such pain, not willingly."

Their eyes met in the dark of the carriage, and Charlotte found she had made a decision.

"I do not think I can bear to go back to the way things were, being Mrs. Collins and pretending to care so deeply about shelves and windows."

"Then tell me." Anne's voice was breathy. "I need to hear you say it."

Feeling daring, Charlotte removed one glove. She leaned closer, and stroked an errant curl away from Anne's ear. "Seduce me," she said, her lips so close to Anne that she could taste the heat radiating from her.

"I feared you would never ask," Anne murmured. Charlotte shivered, her back arching towards Anne. Still, the other woman refused to touch her. Charlotte blushed under her gaze, both fiery and vulnerable.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't see it, do you?" Anne asked. "You don't see how stunning you are."

Charlotte blushed again, averting her gaze. The flush spread across her cheeks and throat, and thrummed even lower in her body.

"My beauty is nothing compared to yours," Charlotte stammered.

Anne traced one finger delicately along the curve of Charlotte's jaw, trailing an achingly light touch down Charlotte's neckline to the front of her bodice.

"Charlotte," Anne breathed, as she followed the path of her finger with a series of gentle kisses. "We are not competing for an eligible gentleman's attentions. We can both be great beauties."

She could only gasp her agreement with Anne's sentiment and the path of her lips. Tragically, the carriage wheels rolled to a halt outside the de Bourgh London house. Charlotte felt sure that the footmen would be able to sense the heat rolling off her body in waves.

Charlotte expected Anne to plan a midnight liason, one not interrupted by the footman. But the other woman merely leaned close and whispered in her ear.

"I promised seduction, my dear. I promise you, it is all the better when savored."

Charlotte stifled a gasp at her audacity.

"Good night."

Lady Anne de Bourgh swept upstairs, a perfect image of propriety. Charlotte leaned against the cool glass of the carriage window, struggling to compose herself. Her body was still echoing with longing when she heard Anne's bedroom door close in the distance.

***

At breakfast, Charlotte found herself watching Anne delicately spread marmalade on her toast. She could not quite believe their carriage ride was more than a dream; the ache in her body was a constant reminder of Anne's promised seduction.

Charlotte was so preoccupied her tea went cold.

"I find myself tired of the London scene," Anne said, a quirk of a smile tracing her lips. "Indeed, I long for a change of scenery."

"Oh?" Charlotte poured herself a fresh cup of tea, fidgetting with the fine china.

"I must confess, I took the liberty of writing to Mr. Collins a few days ago, on the chance that you might wish to accompany me."

"I can guess his response," Charlotte said.

"Quite. I will spare you his effusions," Anne waved a stack of paper in Charlotte's direction. "I merely mentioned it to put your mind at ease. We shall not be expected to make an appearance at Rosings for many months, unless we wish it."

Charlotte enjoyed a celebratory sip of tea at this news.

"Now tell me, where shall we travel first? Shall I let us a castle all of our own? Would you prefer a tour of the Continent?"

"I have always wanted to see Italy," Charlotte confessed. 

"Italy," Anne said slowly. The word rolled slowly off her tongue, as though she were savoring it. Charlotte shivered.

"We could rent a villa," Anne said. "Avoid the English weather."

"Somewhere quiet," Charlotte cautioned.

"Of course," Anne said. "We wouldn't want any interruptions."

***

The journey took longer to arrange than Charlotte wished. If she had realized, she might have requested they travel to Oxford rather than the Italian countryside. Each night of their travels, Anne kissed Charlotte until she struggled against her stays. Yet Anne refused to touch her further until they arrived at their destination.

It was maddening.

At long last they neared their destination. Charlotte barely noticed the sun-dappled vineyards or picture-perfect churches. Anne sat opposite her in the carriage, somehow managing to read despite the jolting of the wheels on the ancient Roman roads.

Charlotte had no such distraction from her predicament. The Italian sun kissed Anne's uncovered hair and danced across her lashes. It was agony.

"We are nearly there," Anne said as Charlotte fidgetted on the elegant carriage seat. "Be patient."

Charlotte opened her mouth to protest, but gasped instead as Anne stretched against the confines of her bodice. A smile played across Anne's lips as she saw Charlotte's reaction.

Neither noticed that they had arrived until the carriage stopped in front of a rambling villa. It looked something from a painting, all golden light and windows thrown open.

"Will the cottage suit you and Cook, Jameson?" Anne asked.

"Yes, My Lady."

"I believe there is a bath somewhere. The estate agent assured me so, at least. If you would draw up a bath for myself and my companion, we are perfectly happy with a cold dinner. Perhaps some bread and cheese, or whatever is available. You may have the rest of the evening off to recover from the journey."

Jameson bowed, and Anne offered her hand to Charlotte to help her from the carriage. Charlotte swayed, more from the dizzying feel of Anne's touch than fatigue at their journey.

"Almost there," Anne said. "You have been most patient with me."

***

Charlotte paced her room, unsure what to do. Her luggage rested in the corner. She pondered changing from her travelling clothes, but did not know what one wore to a seduction.

"Come," Anne said. "We both need a proper bath."

Charlotte whimpered in protest at the delay, until Anne led her into the bathing room. It had obviously been designed by someone who admired the Roman baths of days gone by, although it was a much smaller scale. Charlotte spent a moment wondering about how it was heated before she realized the bath -- more of a pool, laid into the mosaic floor -- could easily hold two people.

"If you are tired from our journey, I will leave you here to bathe in privacy. We can wait until you are ready to -- "

Charlotte cut off Anne's words with a kiss. It was hungry and fierce and almost more than she could stand. She laced her fingers through Anne's hair, and when she stopped she was trembling.

"No more waiting," Charlotte gasped. "Please."

"No more waiting, then," Anne murmured. Without moving from Charlotte's arms, she reached behind her and unpinned her hair. It cascaded loose through Charlotte's fingers. Anne grinned as Charlotte gasped. 

She pivoted Charlotte's hips against her and left Charlotte leaning her cheek against the cool wall of the bath.

"Let me get you out of these clothes," Anne said. "If I can just figure out how."

Charlotte couldn't help herself. She giggled.

"It's not my fault I've never done this!" Anne cried. "It is apparently quite improper to do one's own stays when one has servants, and even so it's very different from this angle."

"Perhaps you need help?" Charlotte suggested, trying to contain her amusement at their predicament.

"No! This is supposed to be perfect," Anne sighed. "I studied techniques and everything. I wanted to surprise you. I just didn't expect to be defeated by women's clothing."

"You studied techniques?" Charlotte asked.

Anne sighed. "I didn't want...that is, you might decide you liked your other life better. Or Lizzie, I have no idea. I am really quite new to this and I did not want my first time to disappoint."

"Oh, Anne." Charlotte turned, kissing her beloved softly. "You don't need to impress me. Truly. I care about *you*, not some fancy technique."

Anne sighed, and Charlotte saw that hint of vulnerability and softness return to Anne's face.

"I still think you might like what I learned," Anne said. "I had to send for some very risque books from a scandalous part of London."

"I'm flattered," Charlotte smiled. "Though after the torment you have been putting me through, I do not believe I shall require very much seduction."

"If you would assist me in the matter of clothing, we could put that to the test."

"That can certainly be arranged, Your Ladyship." Charlotte gave an elaborate curtsy.

A few long, fumbling moments later, and a pile of clothing spread out around them. Charlotte drank in the sight of Anne's body with her eyes. She met Anne's eyes and saw a reflection of her own hunger, and found herself blushing.

"I told you that you were a beauty," Anne murmured.

Charlotte wanted to protest that her hips were too narrow, her hair quite uninspiring. Yet Charlotte saw the way Anne's body responded to hers, and there was no denying the evidence before her.

Slightly uncomfortable with so much attention, Charlotte stepped into the water. It was pleasantly warm, and reached up to her waist. She ducked her head under for the pleasure of it, and shook the water from her body.

"Aren't you coming?"

Anne's casual assertiveness had dropped once again, and Charlotte realized it was the sight of her in the water. She had felt tormented during their entire trip, but wondered now how Anne had maintained her steely resolve. Charlotte enjoyed these glimpses of Anne's unmasked desire. Perhaps she could solicit more?

"Oh my, I fear I may have dropped an earring," Charlotte said with mock disdain. With a positively saucy look at Anne, she turned climbed out of the water once more. Standing opposite Anne, she bent forward as though searching the floor. She savored the involuntary gasp this elicited.

"Did you see it?" Charlotte asked. "My earring, I mean."

Anne seemed incapable of forming a reply, which Charlotte rather enjoyed after their prolonged trip to Italy.

"Perhaps it is closer to you," Charlotte said, leaning towards Anne. The hiss that escaped Anne's lips told Charlotte she had Anne's full attention.

"You. In the bath. Now." Anne's voice was all command, but the longing in her eyes was plain.

Charlotte smirked, and made one more elaborate curtsy before complying.

Anne repaid her in kind by taking an exceptionally long time searching for the soap. Charlotte found herself flushed from the delay and the view by the time Anne joined her in the water.

Charlotte moved to kiss Anne, but Anne danced out of the way. "Not until we've bathed," she said. "Shall I help you, my darling?"

Now it was Charlotte who was all wordessness and longing. She whimpered in protest at the delay.

"I told you before, I cannot seduce you unless you ask me," Anne said.

"Seduce me, then."

"What do you think I am doing?" Anne said, her eyes twinkling. "Only say 'please' and I shall continue."

"Please."

Very slowly, Anne began to lather the soap. She worked the lather slowly over her own neck and shoulders, all the while taunting Charlotte with her eyes. By the time she had reached her breasts, Charlotte had begun to whimper again.

"Please."

"You do ask so sweetly," Anne said. "Will you behave until I tell you."

"Yes." Anything to end this glorious agony.

Anne would not let her rush.

Very slowly, she began to lather Charlotte's body. Yet as much as Charlotte squirmed, Anne was careful to wash everywhere but Charlotte's breasts or the growing heat between her legs.

"Please." The need in Charlotte's voice was greater now. Her entire body sang for release.

"Hold on for just a few moments more," Anne murmured. "Your reward will be worth it."

Anne pulled Charlotte to a recessed bench in the water. She had been too distracted to notice it. Anne soaped Charlotte's breasts and her sex almost before Charlotte had realized it. She writhed, biting her lip.

"Now lean back and relax," Anne instructed, before Charlotte lost all sense of language.

Anne's lips were on her breasts, her mouth. Anne's fingers had reached the hollow well of heat between Charlotte's legs, and worked some sort of Fey magic there. She caught sight of Anne's eyes, hungry and vulnerable and wondrous all at once. It was as though the world slowed until all it contained was the two of them, and Charlotte's body singing at Anne's touch.

Charlotte longed to kiss Anne up and down the length of her body, to return this pleasure somehow. After the waves of pleasure and relief abated, Charlotte found she had no strength for reciprocation.

Anne smiled at her. She was Venus in the pool, a goddess triumphant.

"Well?" Anne murmured, her voice purring with pleasure.

"I'm sorry," Charlotte murmured. "I had planned to...well, I am just so tired. I wanted to do something for you..."

Anne's face softened once more, and she kissed Charlotte's cheek.

"My dear, the fact that I have so exhausted you is compliment enough. Though perhaps we could try again, when we are not so spent from the journey?"

"Yes," Charlotte said, relieved that Anne understood.

"I hope you know, your pleasure is..." Anne trailed off, and shivered. "I am more than happy to try every technique I found in my illicit books. It is truly gratifying to see you enjoy yourself so."

"I couldn't possibly," Charlotte protested, then laughed at her retreat to formal manners while pinned beneath Anne's naked body. "I mean, I have some ideas of my own."

"We shall just have to share," Anne said. "But first, you must rest."

***

Charlotte awoke with Anne's name on her lips. Her shutters were cast open to the sunshine, and unfamiliar birdsong told her it was not long past dawn. 

After last night's escapades, she was famished. She thought about dressing for breakfast, but opted instead to throw a dressing gown across her nightgown.

The villa had an impressive formal dining room that was not set for breakfast, but a nearby kitchen bore a scarred wooden table laden with fresh fruit, cheese, and bread.

Charlotte savored the juicy burst of grapes in her mouth, the softness of fresh rolls, and the tang of unfamiliar cheeses. It felt as though she had been sleeping since she agreed to marry Mr. Collins; each new sensation brought her further towards wakefulness.

Anne appeared in the doorway, a vision of English propriety in an empire waist. "I thought today we might make take a picnic -- "

Charlotte blushed as Anne caught sight of her, hair tumbling about her shoulders and mouth stained with fruit. She must look a wild creature.

"Of course," Charlotte said. "I will get dressed."

Her fingers brushed Anne's as she left the room, and Charlotte took pleasure in watching the other woman shiver.

"We could stay in," Anne murmured. Her voice was so low Charlotte almost missed it.

"My dear Anne, now you must ask me," Charlotte said lightly. 

"Please, Charlotte. You know I am yours. I did not want to presume. We can forego the picnic."

"I had to wait from London to Italy," Charlotte murmured. "I think you can stand one picnic. Only loan me your books tonight. I promise I am a quick study."

"As you wish. I shall ask Cook to prepare a basket for us."

"And the books?"

"I will bring them myself."

***

Anne extracted her revenge by savoring her strawberries in a way which was most tantalizing. She even spilled tea upon the front of her dress to see if Charlotte would help mop it up. Charlotte simply handed Anne a handkerchief with a wicked smile.

By the time Anne delivered books to Charlotte's room that evening, she was obviously experiencing a degree of discomfort. Charlotte recalled her own delicious torment and bid Anne a good evening.

"Perhaps tomorrow one of us shall feel indisposed," Charlotte mused. "We may need to stay inside, out of the fine Italian sun."

"Indeed."

"Until tomorrow, then."

"If you should have trouble sleeping, feel free to wake me." Anne's eyes twinkled in the candlelight. "I do not mind."

Charlotte shut the door with a smile, and opened the first slender volume.

"Oh," she murmured after some time.


	3. Blackmail and Unexpected Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A desperate individual attempts to blackmail Anne. Charlotte finds allies in unexpected places. Amidst the turmoil, the two find comfort in their feelings for each other.
> 
> Happily ever after guaranteed (100% period accuracy be damned).

A gentle tap on the door interrupted her reading. Charlotte found she was somewhat flushed, and wondered if she should make herself more presentable. 

"Charlotte?"

"Anne, are you all right?" Charlotte opened the door, and Anne tumbled into her arms. She clung to Charlotte as though she were a life raft in a storm.

"My dear, what has happened?" 

"A letter," Anne said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "It is from Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"What can he have said to upset you so?" She stroked Anne's hair absently, trying to contain her own dread at this unexpected letter from a male relation. Anne needed her.

"It seems his financial situation has grown more dire since he first became acquainted with you at Rosings. He was injured at Waterloo, and can no longer serve in the army. Somehow...somehow he heard rumors about my birth. Perhaps my mother is haunting me, I do not know. He suggests we marry."

There were so many things Charlotte wanted to say. How dare he? He could not seriously think Anne would consider his proposal. This was the most ungentlemanlike behavior. Yet she found herself unable to speak, for his letter merely reminded them both of the harsh realities outside their bucolic Italian villa.

"What do you want to do?" Charlotte said, still holding Anne gently against her.

"I do not know," Anne said. "I apologize, I should not have disturbed you."

"I am glad you did. Would you...that is, I wonder if you would sleep better if you were not alone?"

"Charlotte, I appreciate the offer, but I am too upset for romance tonight."

"I know," Charlotte smiled. "But perhaps it would be more comfortable if I were to hold you like this, but in a large feather bed?"

"Yes."

Charlotte found she loved to watch Anne sleep. Her eyes lost their worried tightness, and Anne flung limbs haphazardly about the bed as she dreamed. For her part, Charlotte was content to hold her love close while she could. 

She stifled a giggle as she realized her situation was not so unlike Lizzie's when Lydia eloped. A single letter had thrown her prospects, such as they were, into turmoil. Lizzie would insist on keeping her informed, even though each letter tore Charlotte's heart apart anew. The memories hurt less now.

If only Charlotte were a wealthy, respected man such as Darcy, she would set matters to rights as he had with Wickham. Anne stirred, as though the churning of Charlotte's thoughts woke her.

"Charlotte?" she mumbled. "Did the cabbages arrive?"

"Go back to sleep, my love. I think I may know a solution to our problems. I will tell you in the morning." 

***

My dearest Lizzie,

I hope your confinement is going well, and that Darcy is looking after you well. I realize now I was wrong to judge you on such matters. I was still dealing with a heartbreak of my own, and I took it out on you.

I am writing to you today in the hopes that you can be discreet on a most distressing matter. I know that I can trust you on such things, though sometimes I have been too caught up in my own affairs to realize it.

As you know, I am travelling with Lady Anne de Bourgh. We have become great friends, perhaps closer than you and I once were. I know you will not judge me, Lizzie, for my great affection for my dear friend. If you had the chance to become fully acquainted, I believe you would find her much improved since her illness.

It is on her behalf that I write you now, though I admit that our friendship is so great that her happiness affects mine own. It seems that our dear Colonel Fitzwilliam has become determined to marry Lady Anne, despite their difference in station. I fear that fighting Napoleon has made him desperate; it seems he has sustained some injury. He writes to Lady Anne with mad aspersions on her character, and offers his own hand as a way to avoid this alleged scandal.

I am sorry to trouble you with such matters. However, I hoped that your husband's connection to both parties might encourage an amenable solution.

Lady Anne seems much taken with travel, and with Italy. Indeed, I am not sure that she should ever wish to return to England. Rosings Park holds too many memories for her to ever be truly happy there. Colonel Fitzwilliam is at heart an honorable man, made desperate by injuries he acquired defending his country. I do not believe he truly wishes to wed Lady Anne, except to obtain the wealth and station he was once accustomed to. Perhaps he could be made comfortable at Rosings, and Mr. Collins could assist him in any improvements he deems necessary?

Lady Anne is enclosing a letter to her accountant in London enabling Mr. Darcy draw funds for the maintenance of Rosings on behalf of Colonel Fitzwilliam.

When you are recovered, please think of visiting us in Italy with Mr. Darcy and your child. I am sure you would enjoy many fine country walks, and perhaps our company as well.

Regards,  
Charlotte

***

"Do you think they will agree?" Anne asked as Charlotte finished rereading their latest draft of the letter.

"I believe so," Charlotte said. She did not voice her fears to Anne; she didn't need to. They both knew that Mr. Darcy was close friends with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and more likely to believe another man than his irritating aunt's daughter.

"You write a very pretty subterfuge," Anne said. "I do not think Darcy will know about your feelings for his wife from what you've written."

"I do not want to cause her any trouble," Charlotte said. "There was a time when I was heartbroken, and I am not proud of my actions. I accepted Mr. Collins out of hurt and spite, as well as a desire to secure my own future."

"How do you think he will take it?" Anne asked.

"Truly?" Charlotte sighed. "He only wed me because your mother bade him return with a suitable wife. We coexist peaceably enough, but there is no joy between us. I think it will make him happier to tell any who will listen that his wife is accompanying the great Lady Anne de Bourgh on her travels."

Anne wove her fingers through Charlotte's hair, gently teasing out the strands of auburn hair so they caught the sunlight. Charlotte felt some of the tension in her shoulders relax.

"I think I began to forgive Lizzie the first time you and I danced," Charlotte confessed. "Perhaps the poets are right, and love does cure all ills."

"Love?" Anne murmured.

"I wanted to find the perfect moment to tell you, but I feared Colonel Fitzwilliam might steal you away before I had the chance."

"We shall not let it come to that."

The fear lay unspoken between them. Charlotte laced her fingers through Anne's and held tight.

"I suppose I should tell you that I first began to love you from the first time you stood up to my mother," Anne said. "Do you remember? She said that she abhorred the idea of shelves in your closets."

Charlotte chuckled. "She simply needed to realize the shelves were her idea."

"Everyone else either prostrated themself before her whims, or barely tolerated her presence. The latter more often if they had the wealth and repute of Darcy. I had never seen her change her mind before. It made it more bearable to be at Rosings, once I realized there was another way."

"I begin to think you use my own tricks against me," Charlotte said. "As your dancing lessons were so successful in catching my attention."

"I did not mean to deceive you," Anne said quickly. "Only if you did not feel the same way, I did not know another way to find out."

"I am glad you did. Though be warned, I know your tricks now," Charlotte teased.

"Not all of them."

"You forget you loaned me your books."

Charlotte enjoyed the way Anne's breathing quickened, and answered her desire with a kiss. A short while later, Anne pulled herself away.

"Come, we must mail this letter. Else Colonel Fitzwilliam will arrive and find an entirely new reason to blackmail me."

"It would almost be worth it," Charlotte murmured, pulling Anne close again. Anne gasped as Charlotte nibbled at her bodice.

"Remind me why we can't just send a servant?" Charlotte asked.

"I have to consult a solicitor before we send it," Anne said with a sigh. "Promise you will do more of that when we get back." 

"I have been waiting for you to ask me."

Charlotte slid a hand under Anne's skirt, and traced a pattern along Anne's thigh. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we will get back."

"What are we waiting for? At this rate we won't be back before supper."

***

The solicitor was a stuffy Englishman, and spent a great deal of time encouraging Anne to simply accept Colonel Fitzwilliam's offer before conceding that the letter was adequate for her purposes. "If you wish to meet the right people in Italy, you should travel to Venice," the man sniffed. "Though you would do better in Paris if you're so determined to wed outside England. Are you sure there is no one suitable in London? I could make enquiries."

Anne entertained Charlotte with impressions on the long carriage ride home over rough country roads. When they finally arrived, nothing would do but they eat the meal that Cook had kept warm for them. Jameson assured them he had laid the water for the bath as he served their meal.

Anne raised an eyebrow at Charlotte with the mention of the bath, but Charlotte shook her head slightly and winked. She had something else in mind for tonight.

Anne sighed and poked at the cold roast. "How did you like the books I loaned you?"

"I am almost ready to return them to you," Charlotte said. "Perhaps later tonight?"

"That would be most appreciated," Anne said softly. "Will you be by soon?"

"I'll surprise you."

***

Charlotte realized when she arrived at Anne's door that she had forgotten to bring the books with her. She debated returning for them, though in truth she was unsure of the protocol for a midnight rendezvous. The diagrams and instructions she'd read now made her more nervous, as she worried she might disappoint.

Anne opened the door before she could knock, or settle her nerves.

"I thought you'd never get here," Anne said, pulling Charlotte inside. Her kisses were hard and demanding, and Charlotte answered with her own fierce need.

"Wait," Charlotte said. Anne immediately pulled away, and looked at her questioningly.

"What is it? Did I hurt you?"

"No, it was...nice. I just...are you all right, my love?"

Anne sighed, and perched on the edge of the bed. "No."

"Do you want to talk about it? What that man is doing, it's blackmail -- "

"I do not want to talk about him any more," Anne said, her face shadowed in the candlelight. "He has taken enough of our time and attention. I just want to enjoy my time with you."

"I understand," Charlotte said. "Perhaps you would enjoy it more if we slowed down? I seem to remember someone advocating a slow seduction."

"I want you, Charlotte. Now. I am afraid I will regret waiting. As long as you still want me."

Charlotte leaned towards Anne and kissed her gently. Anne returned the kiss with desperate, almost fierce, urgency, as though each kiss were a drop of water in the desert. Charlotte responded with slow, tender caresses. Twining her arms around Anne's waist, she felt Anne's back arch towards her in response. With a sigh, Anne's kisses slowed to match Charlotte's pace. 

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Anne said, nuzzling Charlotte's shoulder.

"Then let me show you what I've learned from those naughty books of yours."

"Are you trying to seduce me, Charlotte Lucas?"

"If you'll let me, Lady Anne."

For the first time since they had seen that insufferable solicitor, Anne smiled. 

"Yes."

Charlotte took Anne's hand and gently kissed her each of fingers. When Charlotte reached the inside of Anne's wrist, Anne shivered. 

"Perhaps we would be more comfortable if you invited me to your bed," Charlotte whispered.

"Yes." 

"Comfortable?" Charlotte asked as Anne lay back amongst the eiderdown.

"Yes."

"Don't move."

Charlotte slowly removed her nightgown, enjoying Anne's appreciative gasp as it fell to the floor. When her small clothes fell as well, Anne reached for her own clothes.

"I thought I asked you not to move," Charlotte said, sliding her naked body alongside Anne's. She could feel Anne's pulse through the thin cloth of her nightgown.

Charlotte slowly began to cover Anne with kisses, enjoying the small gasps and sighs of pleasure that escaped. She paused to nibble Anne's breasts through the nightgown, and wondered at the way Anne's body reacted almost instantly. Though Anne did not touch her, she felt her own body shiver in response to Anne's desire.

"I grow to resent this nightgown," Anne gasped.

"Patience," Charlotte said. She sat up for a moment, and noticed Anne's breath catch as she moved. Charlotte stretched, and Anne's eyes grew wide at the sight.

No one had looked at her that way before. Not Lizzie, not any suitor. Charlotte did not know it was possible for someone to look at *her* that way. She had spent so long feeling the wallflower, the burden, the unwanted spare. Yet Anne had seduced her. Anne had been in love with her for years.

Suddenly daring, Charlotte slid her hand under Anne's nightgown pulled it up to Anne's hips. Anne lay exposed before her; it seems she had not bothered to wear small clothes.

Anne spread her hips, arching towards Charlotte.

Charlotte had read the clinical descriptions in Anne's books, and studied the small black and white drawings. Yet it had not quite prepared her for how *alive* Anne was, all hot and slick and pink. The books warned of a smell as though it were some terrible flaw, yet Charlotte found the musky sweetness alluring. 

Still wondering, Charlotte ran a finger along the slick length of Anne's sex. Anne quivered in response, as though she were a harp and Charlotte had plucked one string. Charlotte had been worried that she would be unable to please Anne, but also that she would not enjoy it. It seemed she was wrong on both counts so far.

"It seems your books contained errors," Charlotte said.

"What?" Anne said. It seemed reading was far from her mind.

Smiling, Charlotte licked her finger. The taste was not fishy nor something to be endured, but something uniquely Anne's that clung to her lips.

"You taste divine," Charlotte murmured.

"Do I?" Anne said, eyes wide as she watched Charlotte.

Charlotte paused to push Anne's nightgown up further, revealing the soft curve of her breast. Charlotte kissed the softness there until she found the hard nub at the center, caressing it with her tongue. She did not linger long, for she wanted to taste Anne again. She wanted to make Anne moan as she had, to forget for a time those who would pull them apart. 

She kissed the inside of Anne's thighs, teasing towards the sweet center.

"Please," Anne whimpered.

"Since you ask so nicely," Charlotte teased.

The first taste was soft and salty and warm. Anne's breath came in shallow pants, and so Charlotte began to explore her with her tongue. Charlotte wondered if the books had steered her wrong yet again, for there was none of the fierce urgency that Anne had first met her with. 

Something shifted, and Anne's body began to hum under Charlotte's caresses. Charlotte was adrift on the tides of Anne's pleasure, and the world seemed to slow until it was only the two of them. 

"Let me kiss you," Anne gasped. "Let me taste what you do."

Charlotte found Anne's mouth once more hungry for hers. This time, she answered with as much desire and urgency. Charlotte trailed a hand down Anne's side, and slid her fingers along Anne's slick warmth.

"Don't stop," Anne murmured, as though Charlotte would consider it.

Charlotte nipped Anne's nipple gently, caressing the warmth between her legs more deeply. 

"You want me to continue?" Charlotte teased.

"Yes," Anne whimpered.

"Like so?" Charlotte said, sliding a finger into the warm ocean of Anne's body. She blinked in surprise as she felt the pulsing of Anne's desire, and moved to match the rhythm.

Anne took advantage of her distraction to seek out Charlotte's own body with her tongue, catching Charlotte's breasts for their own sweet salutation. 

Charlotte moaned in surprise, and Anne winked mischievously at her. 

"I thought I told you to stay still," Charlotte said. 

"I want...you...to...enjoy yourself," Anne panted.

Charlotte did not know how to tell Anne that she had never known such sweet seduction, that each quiver in Anne's body echoed in her own. Something in her look must have said so, for Anne's body twined around Charlotte's.

She rode the waves of Anne's body, until Anne's cries of pleasure faded into a contented sigh.

They lay entwined with each other, one of Anne's legs tossed over Charlotte's. Charlotte closed her eyes as she nuzzled Anne's throat with slow kisses.

"Charlotte?"

"Mmm?"

"Did you want to sleep?" Anne traced one finger along the curve of Charlotte's thigh.

"I didn't wear you out, then." Charlotte found she was no longer as tired as she thought.

"No."

"I'll have to work on that."

"So you aren't quite ready for sleep, then?"

Charlotte kissed the inside of Anne's wrist, reveling once more in the taste of her skin. Anne trailed her fingers along Charlotte's body, and Charlotte arched her hips closer. 

It was nearly dawn before they slept, wrapped in each other and a tangle of sheets. Anne's shoulders had relaxed for the first time since that dratted letter. Charlotte longed to simply watch her beloved sleep, but found herself drifting off to the gentle sound of Anne's heartbeat.

***

My dearest Charlotte,

I was pleasantly surprised to receive your letter. Darcy is now the proud father of a son, Charles Fitzwilliam Darcy. He suggested a number of old family names but I told him they were all too stuffy. I may have teased him terribly by suggesting the middle name 'Collins'; he turned such a delightful shade of red that he let me pick any other name.

It was wise that you sent such a quick messenger, for Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived to plea for Darcy's aid the very day your letter arrived. I do not know how you managed to get a message from Italy to arrive faster than a man from another English county, but there you have it. It does seem that Waterloo damaged our dear Colonel somehow. He is not the man I remember.

Your counsel on matters of matrimony has always been too accurate for my comfort. I am glad that Lady de Bourgh is better able to appreciate your experience in such matters.

Darcy was livid to find that Colonel Fitzwilliam would stoop to such low means. I had to convince him that involving the courts or solicitors would do more harm than good. I fear there may be a permanent rupture between him and Colonel Fitzwilliam because of this matter.

It seems that what the Colonel most wants is a place to call home that has the creature comforts to which he is accustomed. As you suggested, he has agreed to help watch over Rosings in Lady Anne's absence. Mr. Collins is overjoyed to offer whatever help he may in such an important matter for the de Bourgh family. Indeed, he positively insisted that you stay with Lady Anne on her travels in 'foreign parts' to ensure her safety. Mr. Collins still worries for her health, it seems, and has purchased a number of travel volumes on her behalf (enclosed). I had not realized that Italy could so imperil one's health.

I know that Rosings does not carry many happy memories for Lady Anne, but there are certain papers that need to be witnessed and signed. Perhaps she would consent to meet at Rosings at your convenience. Darcy will ensure that Colonel Fitzwilliam stays in a guest house for the duration of your stay.

Dearest Charlotte, I do so hope you will come and meet little Charles. I miss one of the closest friends I have ever known. Though we are both grown up and married now, I have so much that I would tell you if I could.

Warm regards,  
Lizzie

***

Anne refused to take a barouche box on the journey to Rosings, yet somehow Mr. Collins knew when they had arrived. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he rushed out to meet them.

"My dear Lady Anne! You must be so exhausted from your jouney. I left strict instructions that your barouche box be ready for you in London."

Charlotte sighed as she saw her lawfully wedded husband again, all eager solicitation and irritating compliments.

"I wanted the novelty of riding a different form of transportation to Rosings," Anne said, smiling. "Though I thank you for the consideration. I find it enjoyable to try new things."

"Of course!" Mr. Collins looked as though he would speak further, but Lizzie swept out of the house with a child on her hip. 

Charlotte had long feared the sight of Lizzie playing the proud wife, but she found it easier to bear. Perhaps it was the sense that Lizzie was happy, and not merely pretending, as Charlotte did with Mr. Collins. Perhaps it was that Charlotte at last found happiness of her own, and no longer nursed broken-hearted resentment.

"Come meet your namesake, then," Lizzie murmured as she passed the bundle in her arms to Charlotte.

"He has your nose," Charlotte murmured.

"Darcy says he has my eyes, but please do not wake the child to see. He just fell asleep."

Charlotte met Lizzie's proud but tired smile with one of her own. 

***

Charlotte dined alone with Mr. Collins that night, though not without some trepidation. She feared the sight of children would remind him of the entail, and wanting heirs of his own. He had given her a home of her own when she feared she would be forever a spinster, and for that she was grateful. She did not believe she could repay him with a child.

For once, Mr. Collins was silent as the meal began. Charlotte half-hoped that he would speak about closets or chimneys or some other nonsense, but he merely said his prayers and began to eat.

"My dear, I fear I must ask a great favor of you. I would not do so if it were not of the utmost importance." Mr. Collins fiddled with his fork and fell unusually silent.

"Did something happen?" Charlotte asked.

"I fear our fortunes are not so great as I had hoped when we were wed. That is, I know an entail is a terrible way to inherit, but it seemed quite certain."

Charlotte tried to nod encouragingly, although the food had turned to ash in her mouth. Was he asking her to produce an heir? She did not think she could bear it.

"I cannot believe Mrs. Darcy has not told you," Mr. Collins said. "Unless she hesitates out of an abundance of manners. Though I cannot believe she would let you find out such news from idle gossips in the neighborhood."

"What are you speaking of?" Charlotte asked. She dared not voice her suspicion, even to herself, for the hope was too great.

"Her mother has given birth to a son," Mr. Collins said. "It was quite unexpected for everyone involved, I am told. I for one would be embarassed at such indecent fecundity, but I am a man of the Church. Perhaps it is different for my relations. Either way, I fear that we will no longer inherit Longbourne."

Charlotte found her shoulders relax, though she tried to conceal her relief from Mr. Collins. 

"I am sure Lizzie was busy with her own child," she murmured. "She meant no ill will, and has been nothing but friendly since I wrote her."

"Why should she be anything but friendly? You were always a good friend to her."

Charlotte coughed awkwardly. She had grown unaccustomed to managing her husband's moods and found she had lost the knack for steering the conversation.

"Lady Anne was most grateful for her help," Charlotte said at last.

"That is what I wished to speak with you about," Mr. Collins said. "My favor, I mean. I fear that the little compliments I have been cultivating do not work on Lady Anne as they did her mother. She has shown me great favor in allowing me to help manage Rosings. I certainly know more about the fireplaces than anyone else in the neighborhood."

"The staircases as well." Charlotte could not help herself, though she feared Mr. Collins would notice her jests.

"Quite right, quite right." Mr. Collins said. "You somehow have a connection to Lady Anne which I do not. So I come to the great favor I must ask you.

"I shudder to think what would happen if Lady Anne were to die while traveling in some heathen land. Even worse, if she were to forget her duties to Rosings! If she were to forget those who were helping her! I fear I must ask you to risk your own safety for the sake of our future security, and escort her on her travels."

"You wish me to travel with Lady Anne? That is your great favor?"

"I know that the food and the lodgings over there are nothing compared to the comfort of our own home," Mr. Collins said regretfully. "Would you consider it?"

"Of course," Charlotte said. "I shall endure it somehow."

***

"Tell me truly, did you put him up to it?" Charlotte asked Lizzie as they strolled through the gardens at Rosings.

"In fact it was my husband," Lizzie said. "He may have voiced some concerns. Darcy also encouraged Mr. Collins to talk to Colonel Fitzwilliam of his time fighting Napoleon. France is nothing but mud and hunger, apparently."

"You told him?"

"Charlotte, He is not so quick to judge as he once was. Indeed, he can be quite clever at times."

"Tell me that he is the only one who knows."

"Yes."

Charlotte pondered the news. "He could have told Colonel Fitzwilliam instead of helping Anne."

"Not if he wanted to live in marital harmony," Lizzie said fiercely. 

Charlotte wondered once more at the woman next to her, the woman she had once loved so deeply. "I am glad you are happy. I feared he did not deserve you."

"Tell me, are you truly happy with her? I would not blame you if you simply needed an escape, but there are other ways. I can help."

"I have never been happier, Lizzie. Truly."

***

Anne signed the paperwork with the help of two solicitors and Mr. Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam made his apologies via letter, but Anne chose not to see him. Seeing Anne full of confidence, giving commands in her mother's home, made Charlotte smile. Truly there seemed no better revenge against Lady Catherine's cruelty.

Perhaps there was better revenge, or a way to make reparations for wrongs done. After Darcy began to earn her trust, Anne asked him to quietly find her relations in the West Indies and secure their freedom and some sort of living. He looked as though he might question the time and expense, but Lizzie kicked his ankle beneath the table.

Charlotte wondered if Anne would prefer to meet her father's family at least once, but trusted Anne's judgement that it was too risky for the time. Charlotte did not pretend to understand the depth of her heartbreak of her fear at discovery. Perhaps later, when the memory of Colonel Fitzwilliam's letter had lost some of its power.

After a week of playing with young Charles and promises to visit Pemberley, they left Rosings in the eager hands of Mr. Collins and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"How many windows do you think will be added upon our return?" Charlotte asked.

"Truly? I do not care, as long as I am with you."

Charlotte kissed Anne softly, forcing herself not to drag her hands through Anne's artfully arranged curls. That could come later. They had a lifetime to explore together.


End file.
